The Pinnacle, Corryvreckan Whirlpool,West Scotland
Our group of 6 divers struggled in the swirling currents to rendezvous at the appointed time on top of the Pinnacle, the column of solid rock that rises up from a chasm in the Gulf of Corryvreckan more than 200 metres deep to just 30 metres beneath the boiling surface of the Corryvreckan Whirlpool. The Pinnacle is both the cause of and the very heart of the Whirlpool, one of the largest whirlpools in the world.
The Gulf of Corryvreckan is a half-mile wide channel between the islands of Scarba and Jura through which the whole might of the Atlantic daily floods and ebbs with incredible fury. Declared unnavigable by the Royal Navy, it is a hugely foreboding and intimidating place to be.
On the surface the powerful down currents produced by underwater waterfalls cascading down the side of the Pinnacle, create large standing waves and numerous swirling eddies. It is perhaps the most fearsome natural feature in British waters.
I gripped large rocky outcrops – my fingers searching for secure handholds to prevent me being picked up by the strengthening current and swept away into the abyss below. Apprehension upped my breathing rate - I tried to slow things down, taking several long draws on my breathing regulator.
I looked around the 100-foot wide Pinnacle summit. The underwater visibility was about 50 feet here and I could see the sheer sides of the Pinnacle dropping away all around me, disappearing vertically into the surrounding blackness of the Gulf.
My buddy diver Dave Hadden and myself finned over cautiously towards the side of the Pinnacle. The tide had now turned and I could feel the mass of water in which I was suspended starting to propel us over towards the edge. In just a few minutes the down-currents would be so strong that this very edge would be a cascading underwater waterfall. Huge volumes of onrushing water were starting to meet the immoveable Pinnacle, being pushed up one side to plunge and fall over the other side.
A gnawing fear gripped me as I moved over to the edge. If we lingered just a few more minutes the down-currents would sweep us off the Pinnacle and drag us down into the depths - with little chance of breaking free of its grasp. To lose control here in the face of the huge natural forces at work would mean probable death.
Warily I kicked my fins and let the still gentle current sweep me effortlessly and intoxicatingly over towards the sheer cliffs. I grabbed hold of any rocky handholds along the way that allowed me some semblance of control over my flight – finally anchoring myself with a handhold a few feet before the very edge itself. The current immediately swung my body round so that my feet were ahead of me, pointing towards the edge - and the abyss. The monster was trying to snare me and lure me to the point of no return – from where I could not escape its grasp.
Ducking into a small hollow behind a rock ledge at the very edge, I found some shelter from the current. Gingerly, flat on our chests, in the lee of the outcrop, Dave and I moved out and took hold of the smoothed edge of the Pinnacle itself and peered down the sheer cliff face. We could see for perhaps 50 feet down the vertical walls. Beyond, the walls merged into the pure black chasm beneath us
As we lay prone peering over the cliff I noticed that the exhaust bubbles from my breathing regulator, which normally float up towards the surface, were slowing their usual rate of progress.
As I watched, the ascent of my exhaust bubbles got slower and slower - and then the bubbles stopped going up. They simply hung motionless before me in an almost surreal sight, their natural upward buoyancy perfectly countered by the downward drag of the current. Then gradually, as the down currents got perceptively stronger, my exhaust bubbles started being sucked downwards over the edge with increasing ferocity. It was time to leave this strange world – before we too were sucked into the Abyss
The Beckoning Depths
‘There is nothing more powerful than this attraction toward an abyss’
Jules Verne, Journey to the Centre of the Earth
The chain of events that led me to dive into the heart of the Corryvreckan Whirlpool started in 1982 when I first turned up as a fresh faced 23 year old at the Peterhead Scottish Sub Aqua Club’s weekly dive training night.
I had snorkeled on holidays before on coral reefs and seen barracuda and sharks in the wild – but I always felt that as a snorkeler you are something of a voyeur. You are on the outside looking in. I wanted to be a diver, getting down there and becoming part of the action happening below.
The difference between diving and snorkeling is similar to the distinction between riding a motorcycle and driving a car. Driving a car is a bit like playing a video game or watching TV. You are cocooned from the wind and rain outside and shielded from noises and smells, which you would normally pick up subconsciously.
Riding a motorcycle is a totally different driving experience - you feel more a part of what is happening. You get wet from the rain. You are rocked by wind and slipstreams as you pass large vehicles – you feel the effects on your skin. All your senses take in the environment you are in. Sounds and smells are real - unlike the car driving experience where sounds are muffled by noise insulation and smells masked by whatever you have in the car. Such is the difference between diving and snorkeling.
My initial training covered endurance swimming tests to determine if I was physically fit enough. From there I moved on to the delights of practical tests - like duck diving to recover a rubber brick from the bottom of the 15 foot diving pool.
After some basic training and theory it was time to be introduced to the diving tool that would be with me through my life, the aqualung. I didn’t, at this stage, truly understand how marvelous an idea it was nor how it worked. I just knew that if you fitted the 1st Stage clamp of the aqualung onto the pillar valve on the top of a compressed air tank, and stuck the breathing regulator, the 2nd Stage, into your mouth, it gave you whatever air you needed - whenever you needed it.
Like practically every other novice diver in the world, my first experience of the aqualung was in a pool. Wearing just a T-shirt and swimming trunks I sat down at the side of Peterhead pool and pulled on with great relish my new wet suit boots and the incredibly robust black rubber Jet fins of the time. They have proved to be truly indestructible - and are the only piece of my original dive equipment that I still have and use, twenty years later.